Warmth
by nishanightray
Summary: In which Sion has cold hands, while Alba's are warm. / Gakuen!Au, one-sided Sion/Alba.


**Hello~ Today I finally got to relax after a long time, and I spent my free time writing. This story is a gakuen!au, set in the same context as "Because of some weird reasons", but it's chronologically precedent. Here, Alba and Sion have known each other for few months, but they're not a couple yet; it's just Sion that is already in love with Alba.**

**Disclaimer: ****I don't own Senyuu and its characters, since they're property of Robinson Haruhara. I only own my story.**

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_**[Warmth]**_

The snow that has been falling during the night has covered everything with a thin, ash-colored sleet that gives the countryside a ghostly appearance. Sion sighs as he glances towards the sky as he usually does when he's bored, but the window panes are covered by a veil of moisture and looking outside is impossible.

As they usually do during lunch time, Crea and Foyfoy have dragged their chairs close to Sion's desk and started eating their bento while talking animatedly. Sion can't really see the fun in hanging around him, but has stopped trying to say anything about it a while ago: after having known him for more than five years, Sion's grown resigned to the fact that making Crea change his mind is impossible. Foyfoy is also a stubborn kind of person, so there's that, too.

At the moment, apparently, Crea's busy explaining to Foyfoy his own personal interpretation of the Physics lesson that has just ended; his theories are very confused and messed up, because Crea actually doesn't understand the subject at all and his ideas are more based on intuitions rather than on real scientific bases. Sion doesn't care: even more than Crea's chatting, what's really disturbing him is the cold. Among the many things Sion hates, winter definitely makes the top ten. Disgruntled, Sion sinks in his red muffler and his attitude picks Foyfoy's interest.

"Hey Sion, still alive? At this point you'd hit Crea and call him an idiot," he says, interrupting Crea's brilliant explanation (he doesn't get it at all, anyway). Sion shrugs, too lazy to answer, so Crea does it in his place.

"It's because it's too cold. Si-tan is weak against this kind of climate. His hands are freezing and he doesn't really have strength left to do anything," he says, then leans leaned on the desk and grabs Sion's hands before he can react. Crea's mouth opens in a smile, one of these cheeky grins which make Sion want to punch the shit out of him.

"Just as I said!" Crea claims, then turns towards Foyfoy. "Want to try?"

The blonde nods, won by curiosity, but hisses as soon as he takes Sion's hands in his own. "_Whoa_. They're practically _icy. _Are you _sure_ there's even blood flowing through your veins?" He grimaces, retreating his hands quickly with a shiver.

Sion rolls his eyes and, just before he puts his hands back into the uniform pocket, he slaps Crea on the back of his head. Crea looks sullen for a second, then he beams again as a sudden thought pops up in his mind.

"Oh, you know what, Si-tan? The president has _reaaally_ warm hands! You two are practically opposites in everything, huh!" he says, thoughtfully. Sion blinks.

"_The president__…__?_ How do you know?" he asks slowly. Depending on the answer, he thinks, he may have to kill Crea.

"Yesterday I met him in the alleyway and helped him bringing some books, and as he gave them to me we accidentally touched… His hands are very warm and give off a nice feeling," Crea explains, giggling a bit. He loses himself in his thoughts for a moment, not noticing the effect his words has had on Sion until the boy stands up and hits him full-force on the left arm.

xxx

The school yard is full of people rushing to the gate, forming a bulk of colorful coats and umbrellas as they anxiously run to leave as quick as possible. Snow has started to fall again, much to Sion's displeasure. The brunet leans his back against the lockers, hides his face up to his nose into the muffler and squeezes himself in his coat to keep as much warmth as possible; he feels awfully, as though the cold and the humidity have already soaked his whole body to the bones. He definitely hates winter - it makes him tired and leaves him without any will to do anything.

"Sion? Why are you still here? Today the school committee doesn't work, you know?" Alba's voice takes him by surprise. Sion snorts, he'd like to turn towards Alba's stupid face and ask him why, then, he's so late –_well_, he already knows why. Surely that idiot has been finishing someone else's job. _A real idiot, _he thinks sullenly.

"President, if you don't hurry I'll kick you," Sion muses and starts to walk away. Alba opens his mouth, as though he's going to reply, but instead chooses to stay quiet and just take up his pace, following Sion on the way home.

It has become an usual routine for the two of them to walk home together, since Sion has discovered that they lived pretty close to each other, and especially since he has found himself feeling a particular affection towards Alba. Sion can't explain when it has begun, because when he has finally acknowledged those feelings, they were already there and refused to leave. But what annoys him the most is that, even though it's apparently obvious for Crea (who doesn't miss a single chance to make jokes or allusions), the fact that Sion might have a crush on him never seems to cross Alba's mind.

"Sion, you're the type who hates the cold the most, aren't you?" Alba suddenly says, interrupting the silence between them. Sion looks at him and notices a small smile on his lips.

"Do you find it funny?" he asks back, sullen and disgruntled. Alba immediately notices his bad mood and his smile disappears.

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant!" He says in a rush, while twisting nervously his hands. Sion can't help but fix his eyes on them; he remembers clearly what Crea has told him and the thought of Crea holding Alba's hands makes him feel incredibly envious and annoyed. It makes him want to vent these feelings against someone – which means Alba himself, since Crea isn't here. Following a vicious idea that has just come up to his mind, he doesn't think twice and places a hand against Alba's naked nape, making him jump.

"S-Sion, your hand is _so_ _cold_!" Alba shrieks, almost horrified.

"Oh, how perceptive of you, president!" Sion says, grinning from an ear to another as he presses his palm again against Alba's neck and then on his cheek. Alba shivers and struggles to get out of his grasp, so Sion quickly grabs his hands, blocking his movements. He's just about to tease him, but the words die on his tongue as soon as he notices that he's holding onto Alba's hands, and that they are so damn warm and smooth and really _nice_. As Alba's skin burns almost feverishly under his fingertips, this warmth slightly flows through his own hands and expands to his whole arms and upper part of the body, making his chest and face heat up. His heart starts to speed his pace, thumping furiously, annoyingly loud in his chest.

"Uhm, Sion?"

Alba's voice sounds uncertain and somehow timid. It makes Sion snap out of his thoughts and realize that they have stopped in the middle of the ash-colored sidewalk. As he glances up to Alba's face, the other's embarrassed expression makes his own cheeks grow warm, too. Before the situation gets worse, Sion rapidly lets go of Alba and turns his back to him to recollect himself. He'd rather die than show his own vulnerability; yet, he still wants to look at these adorable, reddened cheeks of Alba, and so he can't help but steal occasional glances at him.

"Uhm, Sion…" Alba says. Sion doesn't turn, but his whole attention is focused on Alba at once – he's almost starting to hope that, perhaps, this little accident has made Alba finally notice his feelings for him…

"So, in the end you _are_ the type who hates cold, right?"

…_or not._ Maybe there are more possibilities that Crea would actually take Physics seriously. Sion sighs, cracks his knuckles and places his fists near the other's head, tightening it in a menacing, dangerous grip.

"Ah, I see. Your neurons must have frozen, right, pres'? Please let me help you re-activate them."

"Sion? Sion, are you angry? Why are you—Ouch! It hurts, Sion, it hurts, it hurts—!"

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**I really can't enough of these two, so I might write more :D**

**I hope you liked this!**

**Kisses,**

**nisha.**


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